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Text Scrivener Blooms grumbled under his breath as he waited impatiently in a narrow hallway, ponies bustling by every now and then. This was where he had been told to wait, however: standing across the hall from an ugly wooden door, covered in the same peeling paint as the rest of the hallway, giving everything a run-down and rotting air. The earth pony sighed tiredly, then he looked morbidly up at the ceiling: it was twenty minutes past the time his appointment was scheduled for, and he would have gladly left already if he could. If he left, however, he had no doubt that the psychiatrist he was supposed to meet with would claim that he had skipped out on his probation, and large, scary ponies would undoubtedly then show up at the library to drag him forcefully back to the asylum. The male muttered under his breath, and then he returned his eyes to the door as it clicked before a mare stumbled out, sniffling a little. She was followed by a lanky brown pony with a large, rounded pair of spectacles and a combed-over scraggly yellow mane, who was saying soothingly: "-and just remember what we talked about, and you'll be fine." "My daughter's dead, I don't think I'll ever be fine again." mumbled the mare, storming off, and Scrivener took this as a bad sign as the psychiatrist simply sighed and shook his head, then turned his eyes to the earth pony. He looked surprised at his size, and the charcoal stallion immediately seized on this, straightening a little and holding his head up to make himself appear even larger than he already was. It made the small psychiatrist wince a bit, but then he forced a smile as he said slowly: "You must be Scrivener Blooms, ah, yes. I'm Dr. Duck." "Hello, Dr. Quack." Scrivener said blandly, and the psychiatrist's smile fell from his face before the charcoal stallion asked mildly: "Can I go now? You've seen me, you see that I'm not covered in blood or having psychotic episodes, and I have an appointment in Canterlot next week anyway. Let's save everypony some trouble." "I'm afraid we still have to run through the motions, Scrivener Blooms. Please, come inside." Dr. Duck said mildly, and he turned to head back into his office. Scrivener sighed loudly, rolling his eyes, and then he grumbled and strode forwards, pushing through the door and kicking it closed behind him as he looked back and forth. It was a cluttered little office, crowded with shelves filled with psychology texts and books that looked self-important, and the little wall space left was used up by posters of happy kittens with self-help messages and framed degrees. Scrivener looked around, unimpressed, as he sat in a tiny green chair in front of a massive mahogany desk that Dr. Duck was barely able to squeeze around before he climbed up into his throne of a leather armchair, beginning pleasantly: "Now, Mr. Blooms. I understand that you have a deep-rooted fear of the mental health institution, but let me assure you this is a safe place-" "I'm not scared of doctors. I'm annoyed by them." Scrivener retorted, and Dr. Duck looked less-than-thrilled at being interrupted as the charcoal pony looked back and forth with a grimace. "Bet you never do well with the claustrophobia patients, do you?" "On the contrary, I've seen a lot of success in my practice. On that note, why don't you tell me a little about yourself, Scrivener Blooms? I've read your file up and down, after all, but that only tells me so much." Dr. Duck tented his hooves, leaning forwards and nodding seriously, and Scrivener only gave him a flat look in return. "I'm making good progress, and I'm reintegrating little by little with society. I'm not having anxiety attacks as often anymore and as a matter of fact, this morning I was measured for a nice new set of clothes. I'm taking my medication and being a good little colt." Scrivener said calmly, and Dr. Duck gave him a measuring look before the charcoal stallion smiled wryly and held up a hoof. "Scout's honor." Dr. Duck sighed a bit, then he instead turned his attention to his messy desk for a moment, pulling through a few files, and Scrivener stiffened: this was the part he hated. He knew by now that dealing with these doctors was the same as dealing with a lot of authority figures: you repeated the same old party lines to them again and again, and they had no choice but to believe you and eventually move on from you to something else, so long as you never gave them the satisfaction of seeing you act out. But a lot of doctors liked to poke at nerves: even if they tried to project an atmosphere of compassion and kindness, there was almost always cunning in there as well. It wasn't so different from a police interrogation... and all patients were criminals guilty of insanity until proven innocent. Finally, Dr. Duck looked up and asked in a falsely-gentle voice: "Can you tell me about Princess Luna, Scrivener Blooms? Are you still seeing visions of her?" "I never saw visions of her, she..." Scrivener caught himself, then he smiled slightly, shaking his head slowly. "Nice try. But I'm perfectly sane now and I know that my wife is dead and seeing the world has helped me understand, cope, and move forwards." "You're lying to me, Scrivener, and I don't quite know why." Dr. Duck said softly, leaning across the desk and looking serious. "Now you know that unless I give my approval, you'll be taken back to the Canterlot Institute for Mental Health for reassessment: we're concerned that you still present a significant risk of danger to yourself and others, and you have to make it through a ninety day parole period before anypony will let you simply prance off into the sunset. Now, I have no doubt you can lie your way through your teeth to get through a simple assessment on the good days... but it would be a waste of our time and yours to go through that whole process, and you could end up spending a few days back in the institute, or be placed into one of the halfway house programs... you don't want that, do you?" Scrivener grumbled under his breath, and then he looked up and said moodily: "I don't want to discuss Luna with you." "Okay, then we can avoid that subject for now." Dr. Duck looked pleased with himself as he sat up, asking in his falsely-kind voice: "Tell me about how you've been doing these first few days of freedom. Honestly." "Honestly? I've been... I've been better than I expected." Scrivener said finally, sighing and lowering his head a little, grumbling inwardly. But it would be a small price to pay to be forced to play this stupid game with the shrink if it would just keep him out of the asylum. "Yesterday... Twilight and I went to the bank, and to the pharmacy... we even stopped for lunch and picked up dinner at a restaurant. I was around other ponies almost all day and I only had a few bad moments, but nothing awful." Dr. Duck nodded slowly, then he looked down at the files laid out across his desk as he said calmly: "Tell me about the bad moments, Scrivener Blooms. Did you believe these ponies were out to get you, trying to persecute you?" "No, no..." Scrivener hesitated, then he sighed when Dr. Duck looked up at him, shifting and muttering: "It's not persecution as much as I believe they just don't like me. That they don't want anything to do with me or they... hate me, find me stupid." "I see." Dr. Duck reached up, the lanky earth pony picking up a quill and making a short note on one of Scrivener's files, making him grimace before the psychologist said gently: "You understand that these ponies don't feel that way about you, correct? That it's only all in your mind?" "Yes, I do." Scrivener sighed tiredly, looking down and muttering: "But even with all the anti-anxiety medication running through my system, I still end up thinking these... things." "Well, these medications make handling stress easier, and allow you to better cope with anxiety, but they don't eliminate it completely. Think of it this way: without the medication, you may not be able to control your emotions or remind yourself that your perception of their feelings is only all in your own mind, and then where would you be? Coping with another delusional state." Dr. Duck said pointedly, and Scrivener grunted and nodded moodily before the psychologist smiled. "Good. Now, you're living with a friend, Twilight Sparkle, correct? She's a nice mare... I've met her once or twice." Scrivener looked grouchily across at Dr. Duck, remaining quiet, and the psychologist sized him up for a moment before asking: "How do you feel about her? Are you ever concerned she's 'out to get you,' or do you ever feel the urge to hurt her? Conversely, are your feelings for her strong, do you want to make her 'yours?'" The charcoal stallion shivered once, grunting and looking away before he sighed when the shrink only continued to smile kindly at him, and finally, Scrivy sighed and said moodily: "I... I've never once felt like Twilight wanted to hurt me." He halted, then frowned in surprise as he realized it was true, prompting Dr. Duck to lean forwards curiously. Scrivener remained silent for a moment, and then he nodded slowly, looking up and saying quietly: "She's better to me than I deserve, and I trust her completely. Yes, I care about her very deeply... I want to do everything I can for her, because of all the help she provides me, and because she doesn't judge me. But I fail to see how this has anything to do with the fact everyone thinks I'm nuts." "On the contrary, I think it's a very good sign. It means that little-by-little, you're beginning to move on from the loss of your fiancee, and as you move forwards, I have faith that your mental health will substantially improve." Dr. Duck replied, and even when Scrivener gritted his teeth, the psychologist only smiled. "Don't worry, Scrivener Blooms. These feelings are very natural. And we'll work through that guilt you feel over the death of your loved one. Like I tell all my patients, you have the power to make yourself well." Scrivener grunted at this moodily, and then he dropped his head forwards before Dr. Duck said gently: "I think this is a good start. I won't press you any further for now, Scrivener Blooms, but try and let go of the past, and look forwards to the future. I believe you have a very happy future ahead of you, if you're only willing to move towards it." Scrivener only grunted as he stood up from the chair, and then he nodded once before turning and heading to the door. Just as he pushed it open, however, Dr. Duck said kindly: "Let's meet at the same time, two weeks from now. I'll send you a letter so you don't forget, with a few anxiety exercises." The charcoal stallion nodded silently again, and then he let himself out of the office, closing the door behind him and feeling cranky as he headed down the hall and hurried out of the rundown mental health clinic. He muttered to himself under his breath about self-important doctors, then shook his head out as he strode slowly down the street by himself, looking almost nervously back and forth. The skies were cloudy and gray above, casting a gloomy pall over Ponyville that at least seemed to be keeping most of the ponies inside and the streets relatively empty. It made the walk easier, and he felt his mood slowly evening out with his movements as he headed back towards the library. He had asked Twilight not to come with him, not just because it would waste a lot of her time, but also because he knew he had to adjust to being outside and around ponies by himself, too. Maybe he was pushing himself a little fast, but... all the same, he didn't want to be a dead weight. He didn't want to be dependent on Twilight to take him everywhere like she was his foal-sitter... she deserved better than that. And besides... Ponyville was small, and the ponies didn't set him on edge like the people of Canterlot did... well, most of them didn't. Dr. Duck had been a clear exception to that rule. Scrivener shook his head out a bit before he looked up at the sky overhead, hearing the rumble of thunder. There was going to be a storm today... and he grimaced a bit, picking up his pace as he hurried back towards the library. He could feel his anxieties writhing around in his head, but they were quickly being displaced by a simple desire to avoid the rain if at all possible... he hated the rain. He made it back to the library just after the storm began, avoiding being drenched by the rainfall and letting out a sigh of relief as he kicked the door closed behind him. He glanced up to see Twilight already approaching with a warm smile on her face... an expression Scrivener realized after a moment was just a little bit anxious, too, as she asked quickly: "So how did it go, Scrivy? Rarity's, and then the psychologist?" Scrivener smiled a little across at her, shaking his head as he straightened before shrugging a bit and meeting her eyes. "Good, I think. I... got a little paranoid over at Rarity's, but... she was also hovering around me with a lot of needles and scissors and sharp objects." Twilight laughed a bit at this, nodding slowly to him as she smiled a little in return. "Yeah. I get a little paranoid there myself sometimes too... but what about the psychologist, then?" "Slow down, Twilight, I just got in the door." Scrivener laughed despite himself, shaking his head as he approached, and then he blushed and winced back a bit as the violet mare checked him quickly over, mumbling: "Oh come on, you can't think that I did something stupid out there, can you?" "Hey, I'm supposed to keep an eye on you at all times, Scrivener. I was just... I was just worried. You're kind of a trouble magnet most of the time." Twilight said softly, and Scrivener nodded a bit after a moment, meeting her eyes before she shook her head and reached up to gently touch his face. "I'm glad you're okay." "I am. I am okay." Scrivener affirmed softly, more to himself than her, and then he nodded thoughtfully before saying: "And things went okay with the shrink. I don't like him but I guess that's to be expected anyway. But I didn't make too much trouble so... I just have to go back in two weeks' time and he's going to send us a letter or something." Twilight nodded, then she stepped back and smiled, saying softly: "Come on. I'll make you something to eat." "Why don't I make the food, Twilight? You know I don't mind. I'll just put together grilled cheese or something." Scrivener said after a moment, and Twilight sighed but then nodded, giving him a soft look. "Or grilled tomato? Would you prefer that?" "Whatever you're having is fine, Scrivy." Twilight said with soft amusement, and Scrivener grunted at her with another nod as he headed towards the kitchen, the violet mare smiling a little. "You know, this almost makes me believe your stories. I didn't know you actually knew how to cook." "Well, I wouldn't go that far, Twilight; I might be able to throw food together but I'm no master chef either." Scrivener smiled over his shoulder at her, then returned his gaze forwards, continuing with a shrug of his shoulders: "But Luna was never any good at cooking and... I liked being useful to her. So I gradually learned to expand my repertoire of a few simple dishes into a small variety of meals... you know, when we had to eat, anyway." Twilight looked at him softly, and Scrivener shook his head a bit before the violet mare asked quietly: "What was it like? In the world you lived in?" Scrivener looked over his shoulder at her, halting just outside the kitchen with a bit of a frown, but Twilight Sparkle only smiled faintly, murmuring: "I'm not saying I believe you, Scrivener. But I'm saying that if everything felt so real to you... if everything was so... vivid, and that world you lived in, whether in reality or just delusion was... was the world you lived in... I'm just curious. I want to know what it must have felt like for you... and I wonder sometimes..." "What's the difference between dreams and reality, if you believe in it?" Scrivener finished softly, and Twilight looked at him for a moment, then nodded slowly. Scrivy smiled a little after a moment, then he bowed his head forwards and thought on Twilight's question as he headed into the kitchen. She followed him, sitting back at the table and watching as the stallion slowly went about the process of gathering up the things needed to put together a simple meal. Then he finally looked up, glancing over his shoulder at her and answering softly: "Fluttershy kind of asked me that same question, you know. And I told her I was the luckiest stallion in the world, which... I'll repeat to you. But... I guess you deserve a fuller explanation, too, Twilight. If not just because of your obsession with knowing every little thing, of course..." The violet mare gave him an entertained look, and the stallion looked thoughtfully ahead before he said quietly: "I'm not saying that it was paradise... there was a lot of pain, and there was a lot of hardship. My relationships weren't perfect... far from it. And they required more work and effort than most people would believe, too... but they were worth it, always. And I never once questioned how lucky I was to..." He quieted, then shook his head as his hooves continued to go about the simple process of putting the pan on the stove, buttering bread, getting other things ready. "I have a lot of good memories, and a lot more powerful memories... stuff that I wouldn't trade for the world, even though... they aren't memories that make me happy, either. I remember being strong, and... I liked being strong, Twilight Sparkle. I mean, I know, there aren't a lot of ponies who want to be weak, but..." He laughed a bit, shaking his head slowly as he tossed the bread into the pan, sending up a hiss of steam and the distinct smell of frying butter. "I liked being... in control, in a sense. I mean, Luna was always telling me what to do and so was... the Twilight I knew..." Scrivener smiled over at her. "But I was able to throw my own ideas and weight around too, when I liked. And I was strong enough that I... I didn't have to be afraid of anything. Not with you and Luna behind me, supporting me..." Scrivener lowered his head, and then he shook it hurriedly and went back to cooking, mumbling to himself: "I mean, my Twilight. Well. You know what I mean. What I'm trying to say is... I was never alone." Then he glanced up in surprise as he felt limbs wrap silently around him from behind, and he looked quietly up as Twilight held onto him, pressing herself close against his back and her eyes closed, her head resting silently on the back of his neck. He breathed slowly in and out as he felt her heart thudding in her chest, almost in time with his own... and then the violet mare smiled faintly, whispering: "You never have to be alone, Scrivener. Never." Scrivy blushed a bit as he lowered his head in silent thanks, but he didn't need to speak as Twilight simply held on to him, her eyes closing, pressed against his back. Top ↑ Category:Transcript Category:Story